Touch of Evil (30 page)

I stopped Edna and we both jumped out of the cab. Carol panicked and started to sprint across the park. Tom took off after her.

I was more concerned about Bryan. I fought to break branches away from the passenger door so I could make sure he was okay. When I finally moved the last branch from the window, I saw him sitting staring in wonder at the windshield. The mass of green was too much for him to comprehend. I struggled to open the door. He turned and smiled at me and reached up to touch the needles surrounding us both. I reached across him and unbuckled the belt and helped him slide out of the car.

Tom showed up a minute later, with sweat

painting his brow. He bent over with hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. "Damn, she was fast. She got in a truck at the end of the block and they got away. She must have been planning to ditch this car anyway."

I didn't bother to call the police about the sedan. I didn't have time. Carol and her unknown friend knew I was here, which meant Monica would

know, too. I was betting the Thrall queen would have a better response time than DPD. In any case, I wasn't waiting around to find out. If I wound up getting charged with leaving the scene, so be it. We got Bryan back to the church without

incident. Mike apparently hadn't slept. The pale face and dark circles under his eyes made him look like he was wearing makeup. His relief at seeing Bryan almost made him weep.

I didn't get a chance to introduce Tom, because he was angrily walking up to the vacant-eyed teenager I'd seen earlier. Mike and I were both taken aback when he addressed her. "Tiffany, I thought you were watching out for him! What the hel . . . I mean, what the heck happened?" Life and intelligence flowed into the girl's eyes in a rush that was like watching a flower bloom in time-lapse. A flush reddened her face to her hair roots as she stared at Tom's angry face. "I'm sorry, Tom. I made the mistake of assuming that the people who worked here were above suspicion. It won't happen again. I won't leave his side." Mike walked over to the pair as though in a trance, and put gentle hands on Tiffany's face, cupping her jaw. His amazed smile looked like those carved on the statues above him. "You're not a zombie? But how—?"

Tom sighed and ran fingers through his dark hair while the girl smiled back at Mike. "I'm very sorry, Father Michael. But our Acca felt Bryan might be a target, so we put someone here undercover. If you have no objection, we'd like to keep Tiffany here. We're the only ones who know she's not what she appears. She's a very good actress, and can quickly reach any of us. But after this incident, I think we'll also post two of our younger male wolves as guards, just until Monica is no longer a threat."

Mike the priest vanished for a moment, and

Mike the hockey player took his place. He looked at Tom with a ferocity that surprised us both. Clenched fists tightened ropes of thick muscle that would have made his old coach proud. He must still be visiting a weight room. "If your people have to fight, I'll expect them to eliminate any threat to my charges or my parishioners. Is that clear?" I jerked back a bit, because this was the first time that Mike had ever openly showed hostility toward the Thrall. Tom smiled. "Perfectly. Thank you, Father."

Mike turned and walked back to me. He placed a strong hand on my shoulder. "Promise me you'll be careful?" His blue eyes were pain filled but serious.

"Do my best." It was an honest answer. I would do my best. Neither one of us could know if it would be good enough.

When Tom and I walked out of the church, he followed me around to my side of the truck. Before I could react, he pulled me to him in a tight embrace and whispered in my ear. "I'm so sorry for everything I said before, Kate. But I've got to let Mary know we've got Bryan back and get the

guards situated. Go ahead without me. I'll be home in a few hours." He pressed his lips against my temple briefly. "Please be careful." He released me, winked and then disappeared in a blur of

movement.

While I was still terrified about Bryan, and terrified about Monica, feeling Tom's arms around me made a little part of me happy. That same nagging bit liked hearing him whisper words like sorry, please and careful, and that he'd be home in a few hours.

Not Mary's threats, not smart little wolf cubs, and not even the Thrall could erase my smile as I got in the truck. Eek!

16

My plan was to go home, grab some lunch and head back to the church to stay with Bryan. I hated that I couldn't trust anyone else to do it. But reality is what happens while you're making plans. The attack began before I reached the building, and in broad daylight. You know how tinnitus sounds? There seems to be a pop, and then a buzzing or ringing in your ear. You can't hear things around you—only the buzzing. It usually goes away in a few minutes and doctors claim it's nothing serious.

This didn't go away, and it was very, very

serious. At first, I was able to hold it off, but somehow Monica had convinced the other queens to join her to bring me to her. Or, maybe they were never on my side at all. It could all have been a trick.

I heard Connie listening to country-western in her apartment, so I went upstairs and dug through the chest of drawers to get my CD Walkman. I figured some hard rock would help, and wouldn't annoy church visitors who prefer inspirational music.

But before I could put in new batteries, Monica's voice appeared in mind.

It's time, Kathleen. I've been patient up to this point. But my patience is at an end. I pulled out the four AA cells and dug in the junk drawer in my kitchen for replacements. I smiled darkly as I popped them in. Well, guess what, Monica? My patience is gone, too. You added that final straw when you took Bryan.

Agreement or not, queens or not—you're going down!

She laughed. The bitch had the nerve to laugh. Oh, dear, sweet Katie. You have no idea just how patient I've been. I may die, my Hosts and Herd may all die, but you're the one who is

'going down' .

Her laughter took on that "bwahahah" quality of every villain in every movie in history, and then fire filled my mind, turning it to silly putty. It was so abrupt that the batteries fell to the floor from my limp fingers. I found myself on my knees on the floor and didn't remember falling. I would like to say that it felt like an ice pick to my mind, because that's what everyone thinks of when they imagine a mental attack.

But this was closer to sandpaper—red hot

sandpaper that left slow, smoking trails of dead cells in its wake. I couldn't think, I couldn't see. All I could do was scream over and over until my throat was hoarse.

You see, Kate? I've been practicing, and have discovered many amazing things about the human brain. I do love the sound of people screaming. That first slice was only a taste, sweet Kathleen. Perhaps your legs next, hmmm?

And she was as good as her word. I couldn't shield, I couldn't do anything to ignore the instant, dreadful pain that started in my toes and raced upward all the way to my hips. I had to open my eyes between screams to confirm that nobody was slowly flaying my flesh with a dull knife. I tried to stand, but my muscles wouldn't respond.

That should be long enough, don't you think?

We wouldn't want to damage your muscles so you can't crawl to me, would we? So, are you going to accept your fate, or do I continue? Her voice was pure evil, and filled with a hatred so vibrant it was nearly joyous.

The pain ceased so suddenly that my whole

body spasmed. She was letting me make a choice, and I did. I slammed up every shield I could find within myself. My fingers were clumsy as I fought to get the batteries in the player before she returned. Because I knew she would return. She wanted me dead.

I hurried to the couch. There were pillows and things to hold onto. I turned up the player to the highest setting, and winced as the bass vibrated the player in my hand and through my head. I had to beat this. I knew I could, but before I could figure out how, Monica's voice replaced the music for the first time ever. The player was still spinning, but the music wasn't reaching my ears.

You know, it's funny. I've actually gotten a taste for AC/DC since you've played it so often through the years.

Something about the way she said that—but I didn't get a chance to even voice the question before she answered it.

Oh, yes. I've been with you the whole time. I've watched you live your infinitely dreary life. I know your penchant for pasties, and rum raisin ice cream. I know your favorite shampoo and everyone who is important to you. I saw her fangs flash in my mind and the scar on my leg began to ache. Her next words chilled my blood. Have you checked in on your friend, Peg, lately? No?

How about that sweet old man in Tel Aviv?

Didn't he have some grandchildren? Wouldn't they make darling Hosts? But you can save them; save them all. Just let go and feel the hive. We're here for you. We've always been here for you. You're one of us.

I was suddenly standing in the basement over Larry again, and Monica had hold of my leg. But this time I felt her draw me against her. She nuzzled my neck and then sharp fangs pierced my skin. Her mind reached for mine, touching me—turning me. I started to slip away, started to fall into the welcoming arms of the hive.

" NO! No—no—no!"

I woke screaming in a cold sweat, my heart

racing. The CD had finished. There was silence in my ears, but not in my head. Had it been a dream?

The pain had felt so real, but Thrall shouldn't be able to cause pain.

The buzzing and whispering grew louder with each passing second, as more and more Thrall woke from their sleep to join in the attack. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly dark. I'd been out all blinking afternoon! Who had they captured?

Who was the next chip to use against me?

I raced to the phone, but never got the receiver off the base.

Hahaha! Not a dream, Kate—not a dream at all! Pain slammed into my body so hard that I stumbled and fell against the table. I barely managed to move enough not to crack open my forehead.

Get out of my head, you bitch! I put up walls of heavy stone in my mind, strong enough to withstand the worst possible winds. But Monica waved it aside as though it were a sheer curtain. Poor, poor Katie. You just don't understand yet, do you? I command you. I own you. I am your QUEEN!

My skull began to ache, then burn. The flesh should be melting, running off the bone. I screamed as fast as I could draw breath but nothing relieved the torture. Then my worst nightmare came true. I felt my left arm raise, and I wasn't doing it. The fingers curled into claws and reached for my face. I grabbed it with my right hand and held it away like a snapping dog on a chain. Fear caused the

screaming this time, because my right was the injured arm, so my left was stronger. But my screams weren't nearly as loud as Monica's laughter in my head.

I heard pounding on the door, but was too busy preventing my own fingernails from giving me a Little Shop of Horrors facial.

The front door burst inward and Tom raced in the room. He took one look and seemed to know exactly what was going on. He grabbed me and pulled me against his chest, even as I tried to stop him. I didn't know what the evil possessed hand would do to him, and I'd never forgive myself.

"Tom! No! You don't unders—"

"No, Kate. I do understand." He pressed my head down to his chest, and slid his other hand up the back of my shirt. A fast wind swirled around my body, giving me shivers that blended with the pinpricks of pain as his hand pulled at the bandages on my back. The wind raced through my mind, cooling the fire and the pain. My left arm dropped to my side as though the string had been cut. I could suddenly breathe, and that startled me.

"What . . . how . . .?"

He didn't respond right away. He released my head a bit so I could see his face. He looked shaken and concerned. "Enemy predators means we have a balance of power, Kate. The Thrall can't touch our minds. We can extend that power to those we—well, those who matter to us." I saw a touch of awe on my face reflected in his dark pupils. "You can block them? Can you keep Monica out of my head until she dies?" He nodded, but then chagrin slid over his

features. "Well, as long as we're touching, anyway. You're lucky that it also works as a super pain killer. I can't heal your damage, but you won't feel it. Skin to skin works best, but I can probably manage it if we're both in the same room. I don't know. I've never tried to extend my power that much. But the Acca has calculated that Monica only has another day or so to live, so I can probably stay nearby that long. I hope it's only a day, because my vacation is over tomorrow." Oh. Um. Again my split personality reared its ugly heads. He needed to stay nearby, touching me, for a whole day. Yay! But he needed to stay nearby, touching me, for a whole day. The thought of touching reminded me abruptly of Bryan, and Peg and Gerry and a flow of adrenaline replaced the embarrassment. I started to pull away. He let me pull back a bit, but not completely away.

"How's Bryan? Is everything okay at the church?

Has anyone heard from Joe?"

He nodded and let out a slow breath.

"Everything is fine at the church. Rob, Mark, and Tiffany are there now. Joe checked in as soon as he arrived back from California. He tried to call here, but you didn't answer, so he sent me over to check on you. I'm glad he did."

I let a burst of air through my lips. "Yeah. I'm glad, too. I didn't even hear the phone ring." But how could I have, with the CD player and Monica's loud, haunting laughter scorching my brain?

Phone . . . phone! I pulled away from Tom sharply and headed for the phone. I had to call Peg, and what time was it in Tel Aviv? But I didn't make it more than two steps before the queen bitch of all time was in my head again, trying to take control of my body. Tom felt it. He stepped forward and grabbed my hand before it attacked me again. It was gradual this time, but I felt Monica fade into the background—hissing and spitting the whole way. I closed my eyes and felt the fear slowly fade.